


Howl

by Markovia



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, DRRR Secret Sandy Claws, Disease, Experiment gone wrong, F/M, Gift, Gore, Halloween, Human Experimentation, Infection, M/M, Maybe Werewolf Izaya, Monsters, Transformation, Werewolf, Werewolf Izaya, Werewolf Shizuo, Werewolves, hunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: An experiment goes awry and Shizuo Heiwajima finds himself at the mercy of the moonlight, an enemy he cannot simply beat down with his fists. Celty is at odds with a monster she calls a friend. Shinra deals with the brunt of his Father's actions. And Izaya, well - Izaya finds it all rather amusing.





	1. Lupercalia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shizuoro](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Shizuoro), [shiruru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiruru/gifts).



> This started out as a gift for the DRRR Secret Sandy Claws on Tumblr but took a life of its own (as all my fics do...I must learn to plan better). So, I decided to make it a longer fic, maybe 4/5 chapters. Just in time for Halloween! Enjoy!

“I heard Shizuo Heiwajima has finally lost his mind.”

 

Izaya fingers still over the text he’s been writing and he looks up from his phone toward Namie, who is stood in front of his desk with a stack of papers in an outstretched hand. 

 

“What?” he asks, frowning. It's the first he’s heard of this news and he’s meant to be the one with his finger on the pulse of the city. “What are you talking about?”

 

Namie gives him a bored look and reaches into her pocket for her phone. She flips it open and hands it to Izaya, who snatches it petulantly out of her grasp. “Aren't you watching the chat room?” 

 

The informant throws her phone back to her and drags his laptop closer. “I've been working on the Awakusu ‘mole’ case, Namie. I've been a bit busy today.”

 

“Busy,” she repeats, with a sneer. “Yet you'll drop everything to find out about your ‘Shizu-chan’. When are you two getting married again?” 

 

The informant pouts at her, irritated that she’s  _ still  _ bringing it up. A few weeks ago Shizuo turned up at his front door, veins bulging out of his head, growling about how he was going to kill Izaya for some recent misdemeanour. For a while they’d danced around Izaya’s apartment, knives nicking skin and missed punches pounding into drywall, until finally Shizuo managed to grab the other man by the throat and shove him against the wall. They’d been in that position before and the hatred between them was as violent as ever - but something was different. That ‘something’ lead to the informant excitedly kissing Shizuo, who after a moment of shock, returned the gesture. They’d just started tearing at one another’s clothes when Namie walked through the front door with the bag of takeaway Russia Sushi Izaya ordered her to buy. Shizuo turned a bright shade of scarlet and hastily made his way out of the apartment, her presence clearly jolting him back to reality. 

 

Namie spent most of the afternoon chuckling through a nasty smirk at the informant until he’d had enough and sent her home. Izaya still hadn’t been able to put his finger on what possessed him to plant his lips on the monster he hated most in the world but he guesses it’s was most likely a mixture of adrenaline and the concussion caused when Shizuo banged him into the wall. That had to be it, he didn’t  _ feel  _ anything for the stupid monster. They’d seen each other a number of times since then and their interactions had moved back to routine street-fights, nothing of the brief kiss was mentioned. Izaya didn’t think much on the matter, in fact he was rather disgusted with himself for committing such an act.  It must have been a temporary act of madness.

 

“Screw you. Aren't you meant to be leaving?” Izaya snaps. He waves a dismissive hand at her and spins his chair around so he can trawl through the chat room in relative privacy. The messages started only a hour ago, around eight o’clock, but they've been non-stop since. 

 

_ Heiwajima’s going crazy in Bukuro!  _

 

_ What happened? Is he okay? _

 

_ Shizushizu looks like hell, doesn't he? Oh no, wait! He looks like Akihito Kanbara when he goes berserk! _

 

_ Shut up Erika, he’s way stronger than that. More like a Titan - like Eren Yeager! _

 

_ Pipe down you two. _

 

_ He’s all bloody and shit!  _

 

_ Is he okay? Not to sound horrid but he looks rabid.  _

 

_ Woah! Is he fighting with the Headless Rider?! _

 

He raises a brow at the last message. Shizuo fighting with Celty - surely not, those two monsters were joined at the hip. They’re probably talking nonsense, most likely Shizuo has gotten himself into a rage and the Dullahan is trying to calm him down. Same shit, different day. Frankly, it’s too cold outside for Izaya to be bothered to go and watch. Just as he’s about to switch back to the document he’s been working on, a media file pops up in the chat. Izaya frowns and clicks on the play button. The clip is short, only around twenty seconds long but the content is more than enough to make the informant’s face light up with excited curiosity. He snaps his laptop shut and drags his coat off the back of his chair onto his body as he hurries toward the front door. Namie watches him go with passive eyes, her own finger stilled over the play button of the video. 

 

“I take it I’m locking up then,” she sighs, irritably. “This had better be good.”

 

Izaya stuffs a number of switchblades from the sideboard into his jacket pockets and flashes Namie a grin. “I have no idea whether this is good but it’s certainly interesting. Don’t wait up for me!”

 

“I won’t be here when you get back asshole, I have a life too!” she shouts at him as he slams the door behind him. She shakes her head and looks back at the still video on the screen. For a moment she debates whether or not it’s even worth watching but curiosity gets the better of her so she clicks play and rests her chin against her knuckles. Namie’s passive gaze widens with surprise as the empty room fills with the sound of the carnage on the screen.

  
  


-0- 

 

Shizuo Heiwajima is sleeping. His arms and legs feel like lead, he can’t move but his eyes are open, they must be open. There’s smoke everywhere - smoke or steam. Whatever it is it’s hot against his skin and so thick that he can’t see anything but a deep, endless grey. Then, something in the cloud moves, a monster prowling around the edges of the dream, its teeth bared, mouth open and dripping. For once he can’t move, his strength has deserted him. It looks toward him, eyes two flat, dark circles among the smoke. Slowly it grows closer and Shizuo sucks in a breath when the sudden stench of raw meat forces its way into his nostrils. At first the smell disgusts him, then it settles in the back of his throat, on his tongue, then worms its way down to fill his lungs and suddenly it isn’t so bad. No, if anything it’s  _ good.  _ The monster smiles at him. Shizuo doesn’t smile back, not yet. The smell disconcerts him, he doesn’t like that he likes it. There’s something wrong with him. 

 

He starts to panic but he still cannot move. 

 

There’s the low hum of conversation somewhere in the distance, too distorted for him to make out individual words. Coolness spreads over him slowly, then he begins to feel something else - the weight of his body, the hard metal surface beneath his back, the burn of sterile wash against the back of his throat. The smoke is still there, lurking at the edges of his consciousness and the smell is still burning his nostrils. He longs to see who’s speaking but finds himself still unable to open his eyes. Instead, there’s a panicked voice at his ear and the gentle brush of feather-light hair against his cheek. Somewhere in the background, he can hear the rhythmic beeping of a machine.

"Jesus, Shizuo, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” Shizuo never thought he would be happy to hear the whining tone of Shinra Kishitani but in that moment his voice anchors him back into reality, gives him something past the pain to reach toward. “What the hell has happened to him?”

 

There’s silence for a while, then Shinra lets out an aggravated gasp. “That can’t be real, surely Celty? It is? Well, I guess I’ve seen stranger things happen. What on Earth am I supposed to do? Hold him down? Celty - it’s  _ Shizuo. _ He’s- oh jeez! Use your shadows, quickly!”

 

A heavy weight presses roughly into him and a sudden pulse in the centre of his chest shocks him. The delicious rotting stench pervades his nose and floods his brain. Why tame yourself, something tells him, you’ve always been a monster haven’t you? The feel of skin, of flesh, warm and supple against his chest makes his senses go haywire. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, setting his blood ablaze. It  _ hurts _ , he wants to scream. Let me help you, it speaks again. He’s so  _ hungry _ . 

 

“Fuck, Celty, hold him! H-hello? Who’s th- oh for the love of- what are you doing here? This isn’t a good time!”

 

Another voice speaks from somewhere in the ether, another one he recognises. The sound of it causes an angry rumble low in his chest. “I had a feeling Celty would bring Shizu-chan here. What happened to him? Why does his face look someone’s dragged a rake across it?”

 

“Stand back, Izaya!”

 

“I just wanna look at his face, Shinra. Calm down, I fight him every day, I’ll be fine.”

 

Shizuo lets out a harsh roar and his eyes snap open. His body rolls, back arches upward, but something strong holds him down. The restraint and the sound of Izaya’s laughter makes his thoughts grow wilder and he starts gnashing his teeth, dreaming of gnawing on flesh and bone. Cool evening air fills his lungs and causes goosebumps to erupt across his skin. His eyes dart manically from side to side as the smoke clouds his vision again. The monster smiles and Shizuo  _ smiles _ and snaps his teeth forward, mouth aching to latch around tender human flesh. He manages to get his mouth around something, around a solid but slender forearm. Blood fills his mouth and  _ fuck _ it’s sweet and delicious and any human thought he had left quickly dissipates. There’s another rush of energy and he roars, limbs twisting into shapes they should not and his bones crack under the weight. Before he can bite down harder into the flesh in his mouth a heavy weight collides with his cheek and his head rolls back against the ground. The arm disappears but Shizuo can’t stop himself, he keeps screeching and blindly searching for something to bite onto. His back arches, his elbows jerk backward and when his shoulders break, the shock forces him into unconsciousness. 

 

There’s an odd smile on his face when his exhausted body slumps against the surgical table like a rag doll. 

 

 

-0-

 

 

“You’re a moron,” Shinra states, pinning the bandage around Izaya’s arm carefully in place. He glares up at the smirking informant and folds his arms across his chest. “Seriously, can you just listen to me for once?”

 

“I am listening _ ,  _ my dear Shinra,” Izaya replies, smoothly. He flexes his hand and winces as pain shoots down his arm. The monster’s bitten deeply into the skin and it hurts to wriggle his fingers even a little. He can feel the stitches moving through his skin and the sensation makes him feel slightly sick. When he turns his gaze back up to Shinra his nausea only intensifies. Izaya’s blood is all over his  friend’s coat, his hands - it’s disgusting. “You’re just not telling me what I want to hear. What has happened to that stupid beast?”

 

Shinra sighs again and takes off his bloody glasses so that he can wipe them on a clean patch of his shirt. They’re sitting around the table in the kitchen-diner but they can still hear the sound of Shizuo thrashing and screeching from behind the metal, dead-bolted door that leads to Shinra’s lab. After he woke up again, Celty tethered him to the bed using  thick band of shadows around his throat and wrists, worried that he was only going to hurt himself further. She’s leaning against kitchen table now, watching the live footage of the lab on Shinra’s laptop. From the way she’s fidgeting, she’s clearly nervous and Izaya wonders if Shizuo is really strong enough to break through the powers of the supernatural.

 

“So,” he continues, resting his wounded arm on the table. “Are you going to tell me? Because I will find out somehow.”

 

Shinra places his glasses back on his nose and looks at Izaya tiredly. “He’s been- ugh, how do I explain it?”

 

“What?”

 

Celty shoves her PDA in front of Izaya’s face from across the table.  _ Shinra’s father experimented on him.  _

 

“Shingen?” he frowns, glancing back at the doctor. “What experiment?”

 

“To be honest, I’m still a bit hazy on the details. Dad didn’t tell me a lot,” Shinra explains. “He’s been testing cell mutation, seeing if he can infuse human DNA with non-human creatures.”

 

Izaya purses his lips, confused. “Like animals?”

 

_ Creatures like me.  _ Celty types. She pauses and turns her helmet toward Shinra, who nods in return.  _ There are other things out there too, like Jurogumo and Cu Sith.  _

 

“And hellbeasts. Grims. Werewolves,” Shinra finishes, softly. Izaya’s brow furrows. Most wouldn’t believe such a story but the informant has long lived in the world of the abnormal - he’s sitting near a headless woman and a man who was once possessed by a demonic sword, nothing is impossible anymore. “Dad told me he was working on these things a while ago. I didn’t see him for a few months, in fact I only heard from him once, by phone. He asked if my friend Shizuo was still freakishly strong and if- well, he said it was only hypothetical, and-”

 

“And what, Shinra?” Izaya asks, leaning forward. Nothing this interesting has happened for a long time and Izaya is more than a little interested in the outcomes of this story. 

 

It’s Celty who answers.  _ If he was strong enough to survive a mutation.  _

 

“I didn’t know he was going to do it!” Shinra exclaims, exasperated. He turns to Celty and raises his hand to grasp hers. She steps away from the computer and places her arm comfortingly around his shoulders. “I didn’t hear from him again until today.”

 

Izaya shakes his head in disbelief. “Shizuo wouldn’t agree to be experimented on, Shinra. He always used to throw you across the room as soon as you got a band-aid out.”

 

“I know. He didn’t consent to it, Dad just shoved a auto-injector into the back of his neck when he wasn’t looking. Then he called Celty and told her to come deal with him because Shizuo started going nuts,” Shinra continues, pulling Celty closer. “And of course, my beloved rushes out to help him because she’s so utterly wonderful.”

 

Celty bops him softly on the head as her PDA floats in front of Izaya’s face.  _ Shingen sent us a very pleasant message asking us to deal with him because the reaction wasn’t ‘quite’ what he was expecting.  _

 

“So here we are,” Shinra sighs, leaning against Celty’s stomach. He isn’t as chirpy as he usually is and Izaya wonders if he’s genuinely upset about what is happening. He’s never cared that much for either of them before, or at least it’s never appeared that way. “I’ve no idea what to expect, so we’re just gonna have to wait it out.”

 

_ I hope he’s okay. I’ll beat Shingen up for this.  _

 

The informant rolls his eyes and points to the feed playing on the laptop. Shizuo is still jerking around frantically, looking as if he’s about to pull his arms out of their sockets. His mouth is open, teeth gnashing, Izaya’s blood on his lips and splattered down his chin. He’s thankful the brute didn’t get his teeth further into his arm or he could have torn the muscle straight off the bone. 

 

“He’ll be fine, look at him. He’s as monstrous as he ever was,” Izaya chuckles. Shinra doesn’t look placated, in fact his face turns a worrying shade of green and he looks on the verge of throwing up. “Shinra, listen. You know I’m not one to speak any niceties about our dear Shizu-chan but if anyone is going to survive something like this, it’s going to be him. Unfortunately.”

 

Shinra smiles wearily and nods, rubbing his cheek against Celty’s suit. “I guess you’re right.”

 

Izaya grins. “I’m always right.”

 

 

-0- 

 

 

“Ah Izaya, you’re here!” Shinra calls, waving him through into the lab. Izaya sheds his coat, remembering to slip a knife into his pocket before hanging it up on the back of the front door. “Come over, I need to gloat about you being  _ wrong. _ ”

 

The informant frowns and walks in the direction of Shinra’s fleeting lab coat. Celty is sat on the sofa in a shirt and a pair of Shinra’s boxers playing a video game and she waves at him casually as he passes her. It’s odd to see her out of her cat-suit. She’s got a great figure, he’s noticed that before, but he’s never gotten a good look at much of her skin. It's so pale that it’s verging on alabaster and unusually smooth, as if all potential imperfections and blemishes have been sanded away and polished. Even if you ignore the lack of head, there are things that show the woman isn’t human. Izaya shoots her a flirtatious wink and she raises a middle finger toward him.

 

“Don’t tell Shinra,” he calls, coyly. 

 

Shinra pokes his head out from the entrance to lab as Izaya approaches. “Don’t tell Shinra what?”

 

The informant laughs and walks past him into the laboratory with his hands in his pockets. “Don’t tell Shinra I was flirting with his girlfriend.”

 

When he turns to taunt his friend further, Shinra’s already right in his face, grinning like a maniac. The doctor prods Izaya roughly in the chest with his forefinger. “Flirt with my girlfriend and I’ll surgically remove your legs, kay?”

 

“I’m only joking Shinra,” Izaya chuckles, backing away with his hands in the air. “I prefer them with heads.”

 

“Ugh, why am I friends with you again?” 

 

“I’ve honestly no idea.”

 

The two of them smile at one another and head deeper into the lab. The air-con is set to freezing, so Izaya pulls his coat closer around his body and huffs warm breath into his cupped palms. He can’t hear any screaming, nor thrashing around, in fact it’s deathly silent. Perhaps the monster died, he thinks. The idea brings a smile to his face. 

 

“He’s not dead,” Shinra comments, clearly understand the look of excitement on Izaya’s face. The informant pouts and sighs in exaggerated disappointment. “But he is um, well, it’s hard to explain so I’ll just show you.”

 

The doctor rounds a corner and points in the direction of the operating table ahead of them. Shizuo’s laying in the same spot as yesterday, in the same tattered, bloody clothes. When they move closer, Izaya can see that his eyes are open. Their usual honey colour has vanished, it looks as if the pupil has leaked out into the iris, leaving only flat black circles. The whites of his eyes are reddened by burst blood vessels, as are certain patches of the skin on his face. Izaya frowns, thinking back on the bloody mess that was left of his head yesterday. 

 

“What happened to his face?” he asks. He keeps a few feet away from the table this time, not willing to lose mobility in his other arm either. “He looked like he’d been through a shredder yesterday.”

 

“Strangely enough he did that to himself,” Shinra explains. He makes a motion with his hands as if clawing at the skin of his cheeks. “He kept shrieking that there was something in his head.” 

 

Izaya clicks his tongue derisively. “There’s nothing in that thick head of his.”

 

“You’re so mean,” the doctor laughs, shaking his head. “Anyway, he healed up. His bones cracked back into place and his skin just starting stitching itself back together. It really was marvellous to watch, so bizarre! I kept the tapes so I could go back and wat-”

 

“Focus, Shinra.”

 

“Ah, right. Well, eventually he stopped thrashing and shouting and passed out. He’s been like this for hours now, so I’m not really sure what to do.”

 

Izaya raises a brow. “Have you tried slapping him?”

 

“And get my hand bitten off? No thank you.”

 

“I’ll happily smack the stupid beast.”

 

The doctor claps his hands together and rounds the table so that he’s standing in front of the other man. “Please go ahead.”

 

Izaya narrows his eyes. It’s never a good sign when Shinra looks at him like that, it means he’s plotting something and Izaya doesn’t like being on the receiving end of schemes but the opportunity to punch Shizuo isn’t one he’d ever pass up lightly. The monster is completely out of it and he’s still strapped to the table with Celty’s shadows, how dangerous could it be? He smirks and takes one of the knives from his pocket, flicking it open as he approaches the table. If only Shinra weren’t there to stop him, this would be the perfect opportunity to kill Shizuo. It would be so easy to slit his throat. Perhaps-

 

“Time to wake up, Shizu-chan,” he cooes, mockingly. He raises the knife and stabs it deeply into the soft area beneath his right collarbone. 

 

Shinra gasps and takes a few steps back. “Izaya! What the fuck? You said a slap!”

 

“Oh Shinra, don’t worry yourself,” Izaya snorts, spinning around so that he could give the doctor a lazy smile. “I’ve stabbed him a thousand times bef-”

 

He’s cut off when a hand clamps around the back of his throat and he’s yanked off the floor into the air. Fingers crush into his windpipe so he scrabbles to get his nails into the flesh that’s choking him. Heavy panting rumbles close to his ear and there’s hot breath on the back of his neck. Izaya kicks his legs back but it’s like slamming his feet against a brick wall. Shinra’s looking at him, terrified. 

 

“Sh-Shizuo,” the doctor says, raising his hands. “Put him down. Celty! Get in here!”

 

The Dullahan comes running into the laboratory seconds later. She halts when she catches sight of Izaya thrashing around in the grip of the now-standing Shizuo. The informant glares at her and his hand moves down to his pocket so that he can take hold of another knife. 

 

“Little help?” Izaya gurgles. He stabs the knife backward over his head into Shizuo’s forearm. The sudden pain makes the blond release Izaya onto the floor and he roars as he clenches the bloody limb to his chest. Izaya scrabbles up as Celty steps forward and releases a number of shadows across the room. They slam hard into Shizuo and shove him back into the wall, where they wind around his neck and hold him in place. He keeps trying to lurch forward, clawing forward with outstretched hands. The way his blood-matted hair has fallen over his eyes and his teeth are bared give him the appearance of a wild animal. The sounds he’s making only add to that. 

 

“Iz-a-ya,” he snarls, straining against the shadow collar. 

 

Izaya staggers to his feet, palming his injured neck as he wheezes in much-needed air. The monster is baying for his blood with an aggressive intensity that he hasn’t seen before. Shizuo is usually angry during their chases but this is different. Now he looks like he wants to eat him alive. Celty moves closer with her hands raised in a gesture of peace  but Shizuo continues raving, spitting with rage. 

 

“Be careful Celty!” Shinra warns, worriedly. He turns to Izaya and allows the informant to use his shoulder as support. “Are you okay?”

 

The informant nods and gathers himself for a moment before dropping his hand and standing upright. When he speaks his voice is hoarse. “Y-yeah. Stupid brute.”

 

When he looks back at the monster, he’s calmer than before. He’s stopped clawing at the air and panting from over-exertion, propping himself up against the wall like he’s about to keel over if only the collar would let him. Celty has his full attention, he’s staring intensely at her as she grows closer but he doesn’t lash out, even when she’s within reach. She tentatively places her hands on his chest and he tenses up, uncertain of the situation. After a few seconds he relaxes and she slides the knife out of his torso and drops it on the floor. He hisses with pain so she holds his cheek in her palm and gently strokes her thumb over his cheek. Slowly, so as not to set him off, she wraps her free hand around the handle sticking out of his forearm and pulls it swiftly out. The man makes a low whine and she runs her hand over his head to sweep his hair out of his eyes. As she soothes him, she turns back to Shinra and beckons him over. The doctor nods and gathers a few supplies from the drawer underneath the operating table.

 

“I’d better get those cleaned,” he mutters, half to himself. He moves toward Celty and looks back at Izaya with a tired smile. “Isn’t she a wonder?”

 

“A real monster whisperer,” Izaya murmurs. He walks over to the table and sits atop it, watching intently as Shinra starts to clean the stab wounds and Celty continues to keep the beast calm. Shizuo locks eyes with him and Izaya can’t look away. At first the monster’s stare is blank, it’s almost as if he’s looking straight through the other man, then Izaya winks at him and there’s the first flicker of recognition in Shizuo’s eyes. His blown-wide pupils retract and the familiar honey colour finally becomes visible. Some of the tension around his mouth eases, then his eyes narrow, his lips drop and he’s scowling angrily at the informant. 

 

Izaya chuckles and leans back on his good arm. “Nice to have you back, Shizu-chan.”

 

 

-0-

 

 

“Make yourself at home,” Shinra comments, sarcastically. He sits down on the opposite side of the dining table and drags the bowl of rice in front of Izaya over so that he can swipe some. 

 

Izaya rolls his eyes and swallows the mouthful of food he’s half chewed. “Don't mind if I do. You guys were taking  _ ages _ .”

 

“We had to clean him up and make sure he was safe! You didn't have to stay, Izaya.”

 

“As if I'd leave,” he scoffs, waving a hand carelessly in the air. “This is far too fascinating a situation to pass up.”

 

The doctor shakes his head and starts spooning food into his mouth as Celty and Shizuo appear from the laboratory. The blond looks a little more put together, he’s clean and his hair is slightly damp indicating he’s been in the shower. He’s dressed in some clothes that he recognises as Shinra’s. The tracksuit bottoms are a little short and the t-shirt is a little tight but they’re better than the bloody shreds that were his bartending uniform. Izaya sends a lazy smirk the blond’s way and chuckles darkly under his breath. 

 

“You really are a monster now, aren't you Shizu-chan?” he murmurs. 

 

Shizuo visibly winces at the insult and he clenches his fists as an automatic reaction. Slowly, he takes in a deep breath and lets it go before looking up at the informant. “The only reason I'm not beating you to shit right now is cos I don't wanna cause more trouble for Celty and Shinra.”

 

“How noble,” Izaya sneers. He pulls up his sleeve to show Shizuo the bandage on his forearm. “You owe me an apology, y’know? For nearly biting my arm off?” 

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Izaya laughs and follows the blond with his gaze as he collapses into the chair next to Shinra. “Now, while I don’t really give a shit about your well-being, I am interested in what’s happening to you. So please-”

 

The blond purses his lips and leans back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest. For a long moment he just glares at Izaya, then he sighs and looks down at the already-healing stab wound by his wrist. “I don’t remember much. Just-” 

 

Celty holds up her PDA in one hand and touches him lightly with the other.  _ Just what, Shizuo? _

 

His jaw tenses and he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to tell them about the things he saw in the darkness of his dreams, nor about the way the smell of Izaya’s blood is making his stomach rumble. It tasted so sweet, it still lingers in the back of his mouth. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t remember anything.”

 

Izaya clicks his tongue derisively. He can see straight through Shizuo’s lies and he  _ knows  _ the monster can tell that from the way he won’t meet the informant’s eye. Shinra stands up and fishes his phone out of his pocket with a tired sigh.

 

“I’m gonna try and contact my Dad,” he says, wearily. “I need to find out more about what he gave to you if we’re going to be able to control the after-effects.”

 

Celty pats Shizuo’s shoulder as Shinra gets to his feet and disappears into another room.  _ We should talk a little more about what might happen. I've only seen a couple of lycanthropes before but I'll tell you all I can.  _

 

“What’s a lycanthrope?” Shizuo asks, frowning. 

 

The informant clicks his tongue derisively. “A werewolf, you moron.”

 

Shizuo’s face flushes red then he stands up jerkily with his fists clenched at his sides, looking very much like he wants to tear Izaya’s head off. The beginning of a growl starts low in his chest but is quietened when Celty places a hand on his shoulder and shoves her PDA in Izaya’s face. 

 

_ You should leave.  _

 

“Ah, but it was just starting to get fun,” Izaya complains, with a dramatic sigh. He shrugs and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair, folding it over his good arm. “Never mind. I'm sure I'll see you both very soon.” 

 

As he wanders to the front door, Celty taps out another message and holds it up to Shizuo, who glances briefly down at it, then back up at Izaya’s retreating form.  _ I can make some food if you like. Are you hungry? _

 

Shizuo nods absently, gaze firmly locked on Izaya. The smell of meat pervades the air and he can still taste the bitter metallic tang of the informant’s blood swilling around his mouth. “Starving.”

 

 

-0-

 

 

The next time Izaya sees Shizuo, he’s storming through the crowds of Ikebukuro as if he’s got somewhere to be. The informant grins lazily and starts to follow him. There’s no way Izaya can let the monster go without a little taunting, not after their last meeting. Shizuo seems surlier than usual, he’s not paying attention to the people whose shoulders push against his and many of them go sprawling from the force of his movement. Izaya wonders if his situation has worsened or if he’s had a bad day - either way he’s going to make the man’s mood a lot worse. The blond rounds a corner out of the crowds into an empty alleyway, one of many which they’ve both fought in before. Izaya smirks and speeds up to catch up with the other man only to find that he’s sat on the floor of the alley with his head turned away from the approaching informant. He frowns and slips a flick-knife from his pocket, stopping a few feet away from Shizuo for security.

 

“Drunk again, Shizu-chan?” he sneers. The blond flinches at the sound of his voice and a sharp crack rings out in the lonely alley. When he turns fully, Izaya notices that the left sleeve of his shirt is rolled up on his bicep and there’s a needle sticking out from the curve of his elbow. In his surprise he’s managed to bend the body of the syringe and the glass has shattered onto the floor. The informant raises a brow. “Drugs? New low.”

 

Shizuo stares blankly at the shattered glass as he slides the needle out of his arm onto the floor. For a moment he’s still, then he stands up and starts searching through the pockets of his coat, brow furrowed in concern. 

 

“Going to ignore me, Shizu-chan? You know we have lots to talk about. Y’know, like you being a Universal monster, our little  _ tryst  _ last month-”

 

“Piss off you fucking flea,” he growls, pulling a small black wallet out of his pocket. He unzips it quickly and starts rifling through the inner pockets for something. “Shit, fuck,  _ dammit _ .”

 

Izaya looks down at the warped syringe then back up at Shizuo. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I left it at home,” Shizuo says, to himself. “I only needed one so I- fuck. I gotta message Celty.”

 

The blond throws the wallet onto the floor and starts to stride in the opposite direction to Izaya, tapping away on his phone. The informant doesn’t like being ignored, so he sprints forward and slices through the back of Shizuo’s coat with his knife. Immediately, Shizuo whirls around and catches Izaya by his collar, lifting him off the floor so that he can slam him hard into the wall of the alley. His mobile clatters to the floor at their feet and beeps as a message sends. The way Izaya lands forces his injured arm to be twisted behind his back. It collides with the wall and Izaya lets out a low gasp when he feels the stitches around the bite mark burst. Moisture drips down his arm and soaks into his sleeve so he starts pushing against Shizuo with his free hand. The blond is glaring at him angrily, veins bulging in his forehead like they’re about to burst. 

 

“Shinra’s dad gave me that stuff,” he hisses, fist tightening around Izaya’s collar. “I need to take it at or I’ll-”

 

Izaya shoves his hand into Shizuo’s face and the impact is enough to make the blond release him and he slides to the ground, spluttering due to the previous constriction on his throat. He pushes up his sleeve and wrinkles his nose in disgust at the sight of all the blood. 

 

“Look what you did, you stupid beast,” Izaya grunts, pushing himself to his feet. He whips another knife from his pocket and holds it level with Shizuo’s chest. The other man is looking at the open wound with his wide eyes and his lips drop open in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

 

The blond remains silent but he moves forward until Izaya finds himself backed against the wall. Shizuo’s chest is pressed against the tip of the knife. It doesn’t pierce through his clothes but it’s enough that Izaya feels the pressure on the handle. The monster is still looking at his bloody arm and his pupils start to blow wide, his left eye twitches and his mouth drops open further until Izaya can see his teeth. The informant smirks but nervousness starts to twist his guts. 

 

“Not feeling well, Shizu-chan?” he mutters. The veins in the blond’s forehead look ready to burst from beneath his skin. “I’d love to stay and play but it’s getting dark and I should-” The penny drops and a cold feeling runs down Izaya’s spine. He glances up and sees the faded shade of the full moon becoming visible as the sky darkens. “You’re joking right?”

 

Shizuo blinks and sucks in a laboured breath. “I need to get medicine or-”

 

“Well go get it then,” Izaya replies, harshly. “What’s stopping you?”

 

He swallows thickly and Izaya feels the weight against the knife grow heavier. The way Shizuo’s looking at him is disconcerting, his eyes are devoid of their golden hue and there’s an odd mixture of lust and violence in them. When he speaks again his voice is abnormal, a low rasp that Izaya can barely make out. 

 

“I'm hungry.”

 

Izaya grits his teeth and darts beneath Shizuo’s arm just as the man leans in to grab at him. The blond is faster than usual and almost catches Izaya by the sleeve but the informant slices his hand making him draw back. He starts slowly walking away, keeping on eye on the monster who is nursing his bleeding hand. When the two lock eyes again Izaya is surprised to see desperation on Shizuo’s face. 

 

“I need Celty,” he says, hoarsely. “I don't wanna hurt anyone.” 

 

“And why would I help you?” Izaya replies, carefully. 

 

Shizuo’s body twitches suddenly, as if he’s been injected with adrenaline. “You always talk ‘bout loving humans right? Ah, fuck -  _ hurts _ . I could kill someone.”

 

“You got me there,” he replies, fishing his phone out of his pocket. It's not out of care for Shizuo, nor really for the humans he claims to love, but for concern of his own well-being. Izaya is a capable man but he’s knows his own limits and he can't face Shizuo head on when he’s unaware of where the transformation could lead. Better to let another monster take care of him. He quickly taps out their location and sends a message to Celty. The Dullahan is always glued to her PDA so she replies almost instantly to tell Izaya she’d be there in a few minutes. “She’s on her way. You should be more careful or more people might start to realise what a monster you are. Then again, that might be a good thing! You'd prove me right all along.”

 

“Shut up, f-flea,” he murmurs, words slurring as if he’s drunk. Shizuo closes his eyes and his body twitches once more before he doubles over, clutching his chest. With a pained whine, he leans against the wall with one arm propping him up. Izaya frowns and grips the handle of his knife a little tighter. The blond looks up at him again and Izaya grimaces at the sight of his cheekbones pushing through his skin. He tries to say something but the words turn into a disturbing gurgle when Shizuo lurches forward and drops to his knees. Izaya takes a few steps back in caution but finds himself unable to look away from the horrendous sight before him. Shizuo’s limbs are jerking around into abnormal positions as if some vile puppet master is trying to rearrange his skeleton. Inhuman noises fill the alley. There’s cracking and popping from his bones, a grim squishing sound from the way his muscles are stretching and compressing around his new form and the mixture of panting and retching coming from his mouth make it sound like he’s going to throw up. Izaya lets out a shaky breath, somewhat exhilarated by the bizarre sight before him. Shizuo’s hands crunch as they reform, the fingers elongating and nails curving into sharp claws. The veins all over his body are standing out from beneath his skin, the colour far darker than it should be. 

 

Izaya jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder and he spins around, blade swiping through the air. The knife hits something solid then his wrist is dragged down past his hips and he’s pulled face to visor with the Dullahan. He grins and pulls his hand back, flicking the knife back into his pocket. “Hello dear Courier. You took your time.”

 

Celty doesn’t reply, she shoves past him and raises her hands in preparation to contain the creature writhing on the floor. Izaya pouts and turns so that he can peer over her shoulder. Shizuo’s barely recognisable anymore, his clothes are barely tatters around his twisted body, his face has malformed and elongated into a snout, filled with a number of vicious-looking fangs. Most of his skin has ripped wide open, splattering blood across the pavement. It looks as if he’s pulling off clothes, tearing the last human pieces of flesh away, and patches of thick, wiry hair is starting to sprout from out of these gashes.

 

“How disgusting,” he states, wrinkling his nose at the gore. Celty ignores him and starts to wind her shadows around Shizuo’s jerking limbs. They stick to his arms and legs and finally cover his entire body just as he leaps upright. Another extension shoots from Celty’s back and shoves Izaya back against the alley wall just as the monster smacks into her chest. The two of them go flying backward, a few feet past where Izaya’s landed. The  _ thing  _ that was Shizuo gets back onto its feet and faces the informant, flat black eyes locking onto the human’s. It’s not how Izaya imagined a werewolf would look. The thing’s skin is leathery with only a few patches of bloody brown hair across its torso. It’s a bony creature but from the look of the muscles working beneath the wrinkled skin, it’s strong - much like Shizuo’s usual appearance. Every inch of the body looks stretched out and given that his human form is already tall, the monster is verging on seven foot when it stands fully upright. It moves a step closer to Izaya and reaches out with a gnarled claw. A low whine sounds from it, then Izaya takes a step back and the noise drops to a growl. The creature bares its mangled teeth and roars in the informant’s face. Before it can move any closer a giant band of shadow wraps around its chest and tugs it back to the floor, where it starts thrashing and snarling like a caged animal. Celty, now standing, waves a hand at Izaya to indicate that he should run. This is too much, even for Izaya so the informant nods and sprints down the alley with the sound of the creature baying for his blood ricocheting off the walls.  

 

He doesn’t stop running until he’s safely triple-locked behind the door of his apartment, where finally he collapses onto the sofa and catches his breath. Adrenaline is coursing powerful through his body, he can hear the pounding of his over-exerted heart thrumming in his ears and his hands are trembling. Izaya laughs - he’s scared, he’s actually scared! Upon this realisation he laughs excitedly and laces his shaking fingers together. It’s very rare for him to be terrified so the experience is exhilarating for him. Eventually his breathing slows, his hands still and the terror turns to intrigue. His injured arm is sticky and when he peels off his coat there’s blood everywhere. Thankfully it has crusted over in some areas but there are a few patches where the blood is still seeping so he fetches the first aid kit from the kitchen. Izaya has never been any good at patching himself up and the angle is awkward so he wraps the bandage sloppily but it’s enough for tonight. He’ll have Namie redo it tomorrow. 

 

The memory of Shizuo turning into that  _ thing  _ plays over and over in his mind. For once he draws blanks on what to do next. He has the information, he’s seen the creature with his own eyes - now what? It’s hardly something that he can exploit, it seemed out of control. Izaya turns his head and gazes of the window at the swollen, pock-marked moon hanging over the city. An dull pain starts throbbing up and down his injured arm. He glances down at the bandage, then back at the moon and a cold feeling runs down his spine. 

 

Surely not. 

 

 

  
  
  



	2. By the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter up! Hope you enjoy and Happy Halloween!

Shizuo wakes to the feeling of someone tapping gently against his chest. At first he ignores it, mind too sluggish to comprehend moving but eventually it gets annoying so he opens his eyes and groans. Much to his surprise he finds Shinra standing over him pummelling his fists into Shizuo’s chest. The doctor looks unusually pissed off which immediately worries the other man - angry Shinra plus ‘why am I out cold’ equals ‘probable danger’. 

 

“Oi,” he growls, raising a hand to grab one of Shinra’s wrists. The bespectacled man freezes and looks down at Shizuo’s face in fright. “What’re you doin’?” He goes to sit up but Shinra pushes against his chest and forces him back down. From the look at it, they’re back in the laboratory which confuses him - wasn’t he at work? In fact, what happened to the last ten hours? “What’s going on?”

 

The doctor sighs irritably and keeps his hand firmly on Shizuo’s torso. “Don’t try and sit up yet or you’ll be sick. I had to sedate you with enough drugs to kill an elephant.”

 

“Why?” he moans. The room is spinning slightly but as much as he blinks it won’t stop. His body feels incredibly heavy and  _ fuck  _ it hurts. It feels like he’s stretched every muscle to breaking point and now they’re refusing to move. 

 

“Because you’re an idiot and didn’t take your medicine like you were told to,” Shinra explains, lowering his hand back to his side. “So you went ape-shit in the centre of town and Celty wrangle you back here.”

 

The blond frowns and looks down at his torso only to recoil in disgust. He’s nearly naked, covered only by a pair of boxers that he doesn’t recognise as his own, so he gets a full view of how severe the mess is. His chest is shredded to ribbons down the centre and there are further tears along his arms and legs, each wound a raw, bloody mess. “How am I alive?”

 

Shinra shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. But you’re a lot better than even an hour ago, so just lay there and wait - you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

 

“I will?” Shizuo muses, sounding rather subdued. He looks back at Shinra, ashamed. “Is Celty okay?”

 

The doctor’s face darkens and he raises his fist then pounds it into the other palm. “She’s fine but I’m still going to hit you when you’re better.”

 

“You were hitting me just a minute ago.”

 

“Yeah well,” Shinra admits, a small smile finally working its way onto his face. “You’re quite scary so I thought I’d get a few in while you were passed out.”

 

The blond laughs gruffly, wincing when the motion causes pain to run across his chest. “Yeah, I guess I deserve it. I can’t remember what happened, I definitely took that stuff everywhere with me.”

 

Shinra sighs and his gaze moves away from Shizuo, up, to the other side of the room. “You wanna fill him in on that?”

 

Shizuo furrows his brow in confusion until the moment Izaya’s smug face pops in vision on the opposite side to Shinra. He grins and waggles his fingers at the wounded man, clearly revelling in the state of him.

 

“Morning, sleepy-chan.”

 

“Why is this dickhead here?” Shizuo growls at Shinra. 

 

Izaya tuts and leans closer to the man on the surgical table. “You should be more grateful. It's only because of my kind assistance that Celty knew where to find you.” 

 

The blond’s scowl falls in surprise for a second. “You're fucking kidding?” 

 

“I’m not.”

 

“He’s not,” Shinra says, simultaneously. 

 

Shizuo grunts and turns his gaze up to meet Izaya’s. “Whatever. I ain’t saying thanks to you.”

 

“As to be expected of an ignorant monster like you,” Izaya scoffs. He shakes his head and peers down at the mess that is Shizuo’s torso. A grimace tightens the features of his face. “What a shame you won’t die of your injuries. Now Shinra, can we please go and talk about what I came here to discuss?”

 

The doctor nods and pushes himself away from the operating table. He moves around to Shizuo’s head and presses a button on a small machine which is linked up to the vein in the blond’s arms. “Yeah, yeah. You’re so demanding. You know I’m as much in the dark about all this stuff as you are?”

 

“Then talk to your mad Father,” Izaya replies. He leans down to Shizuo and grins unpleasantly in his face. “Goodnight, Shizu-chan.”

 

Shinra drags Izaya away and places a hand onto the blond’s shoulder. “I’m going to sedate you again as you’ve got a lot of healing to do. It’ll probably hurt a lot so it’s better just to knock you out.”

 

His voice sounds far away and the room is beginning to spin faster than before. Shizuo feels his eyes grow heavy and his fingers grow numb, then darkness starts to spread from the corners of his vision. He can still hear Izaya’s grating laugh rattling around his head and just before he dips into unconsciousness, he swears the smell of him intensifies. 

 

When the blond’s eyes droop and he passed out, Izaya turns to look at Shinra and his smile drops. “Do you have any idea what could be going on?”

 

“Can I see your arm?” 

 

Izaya hesitates for a moment then pulls up his sleeve and reveals the bandage wound around his forearm. Slowly, he unpins the safety clip and winds the material round and round until it coils to the floor at his feet. Shinra frowns and gently takes the informant’s elbow so that he can drag him closer. The bite mark looks  _ much  _ worse than before. The indents are blackened and crusty, the skin around them is swollen and purple with bruises. Izaya’s veins are bulging out and the blood running through them seems to be darker than before. With gentle fingers, the doctor pushes against a patch of skin between two of the teeth marks and Izaya lets out a hiss of pain. 

 

“Fuck, ah- that hurts!” the informant snaps, pulling his arm back. 

 

Shinra glances worriedly at the arm. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner? It looks infected. Come over here, I need to take a closer look.”

 

Before Izaya can protest, he’s being shoved toward Shinra’s workbench and the doctor forces him down into a chair. He clamps a hand over the informant’s wrist to keep him still, then holds up a magnifying glass so he can take a closer look at the vicious bite. 

 

“You’re lucky your arm hasn’t fallen off,” Shinra comments, shaking his head. “You two are the most self-destructive people in the universe.”

 

Izaya grits his teeth as the doctor begins to spray clear liquid across the wound and dab gently at the raw tears in the skin. “I washed it properly, Namie bandaged it up twice - I know how to take care of myself. It just won’t heal. And last night-”

 

Shinra raises a brow at the informant’s weighted pause. “Last night?”

 

There’s another long moment of silence as Izaya stares intensely at the disgusting wound on his arm. Shinra can see the cogs of his sharp mind turning, then his burgundy eyes snap over to the doctor. “Last night I felt something odd, when I was looking at the moon. It sort of - pulses. You don’t think-?”

 

“It’s best not to draw conclusions without evidence, Izaya,” Shinra replies, sternly. He places down the bloody rag that’s he’s been dabbing onto the informant’s arm and lets out a sigh, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “I need to speak to my Father. I can’t believe he’s run off and left me to deal with this.”

 

Izaya hums, not really listening. He doesn’t even notice when Shinra stands and moves to the other side of the lab, muttering something about a phone call. The wound is cleaner than before but already there’s more clear fluid leaking out of the punctures onto the workbench and his whole arm feels like it’s throbbing. Slowly, he turns his head to look at Shizuo and an unpleasant scowl marrs the handsome features of his face. He leans forward in the chair and speaks in a low hiss, hatred seeping from his words. 

 

“If you’ve made me into a monster I swear you’ll never have another moment of peace, Shizu-chan.”

 

 

-0- 

 

 

“If Shingen ever shows his face around ‘Bukuro again I'll smash his head in.”

 

_ Not if I get to him first.  _ Celty leans back in the sofa cushions and pulls the blanket around her shoulders closer to her body. The PDA floats next to her neck, suspended by a shadowy extension of her body.  _ Do you want any food? You were out cold for a good few hours so you must be hungry. I was going to order in for Shinra but he’s been on the phone for ages. _

 

Shizuo looks down into his hot chocolate and frowns. “Is he going to let me go home anytime soon?”

 

The Dullahan shrugs.  _ I'm not sure. But it's better for you to stay here at the moment. The full moon has passed but better to be safe! He’s making Izaya stay too. _

 

“Izaya? Why?”

 

_ Not sure. I think his arm is infected. Knowing Shinra he’s probably just excited at the prospect of an amputation.  _

 

He nods, silently musing over the fact that he’s somehow become even more of a danger to the general public than before and whether Izaya would be as dangerous with only one hand. A vile squirming starts in the pit of his stomach - he can smell the flea from the other room and it’s making him hungry. This effect is getting harder to ignore but it’s too disturbing to broach, even with Celty. The television in front of them blares the evening news loudly and Shizuo hopes there will be no story about a fight between the Black Rider and another monster.

 

“Could you tell me what you know?” he asks, raising his arms over the back of the sofa. “You said you'd met some, uh, people like me before?”

 

Celty raises her PDA.  _ The Werewolves of Ossery, those were the ones I knew. They were descendants of the original form. They seemed pretty convinced that the first transformation happened because of an attack by a pack of hungry wolves. I wasn’t in Laois for that long so I can’t say I got to speak to them much.  _

 

“Well, how did they cope with it?” Shizuo asks, gruffly. He takes a sip of the drink in front of him and leans back into the pillows. “They must have had some trick, right?”

 

The Dullahan hesitates for a moment, then taps out another message.  _ They didn’t. They couldn’t suppress it, so many of them were killed by local towns or villages. _

 

Shizuo nods and looks down at the floor, uncertain of how to reply. Fortunately for him, Izaya decides to stroll into the room and place his hands on the blond’s shoulders. Immediately he tenses up and growls at the rotten stench of the informant assaulting his already overstimulated senses. He clamps his hands on Izaya’s wrists but before he can hurl the other man over his head Celty shoves a message in front of his face. 

 

_ Please don't ruin the house, Shizuo.  _

 

He forces himself to calm down and reluctantly releases the laughing informant, who jumps over the back of the sofa and plants himself down beside Shizuo.

 

“You know I almost feel sorry for you,” Izaya sneers. “Almost. I don't, of course. In fact it's rather amusing to watch you suffer like this.”

 

“Stop it both of you,” Shinra smacks Izaya on the back of the head as he moves around the back of the sofa to sit with Celty. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. After a moment he places them back over his ears and eyes the two foes with weary eyes. “Dad called. He told me something that I don’t think you’re going to want to hear.”

 

Shizuo sighs and moves his hand to his hip, where he usually keeps his cigarettes but, of course, he’s still wearing Shinra’s dressing gown so there’s nothing to be found. Irritably, he looks back up at the doctor and narrows his eyes. “What is it?”

 

“Who was the first person you bit after you, uh - got infected?”

 

The blond scowls and shoves his elbow into Izaya’s ribs. The informant shoves back and they both glare at one another like petulant schoolkids. “This little shitbag, I think.”

 

Izaya looks over at Shinra and nods. “It was indeed. The stupid beast sank his teeth into my arm. Don't you remember?”

 

With a sigh, the doctor looks at Celty and then back at the two men. “Shizuo - how does Izaya smell to you?”

 

“What?” Shizuo answers, wrinkling his nose. He breathes in and is surprised to find that the rotten stench of the informant is no longer turning his stomach. It’s still the same, the slightly bitter scent that he’s grown to smell from across the city, but the feeling it creates within him has changed. “I’m not gonna  _ smell  _ him.”

 

“I don’t want you to smell me, you idio-”

 

Shizuo throws a punch. Izaya leans back and the fist swings above his nose. He’s quick to retaliate, flicking a knife out from his sleeve as he jumps over the back of the sofa, Shizuo close behind. Before they can land blows, Celty raises a hand and a number of shadows rise from the floor to wind around their bodies. Their feet are cemented down onto the floor and their hands are bound tightly in front of them. Shizuo stumbles,  topples into Izaya and they both go crashing to the floor in a heap. The shadows hold fast and they can barely move but Shizuo eventually manages to push himself up with his fists. When he looks down, Izaya is peering up at him with a smirk on his face. 

 

“Oh my Shizu-chan,” he taunts, eyes narrowing. It’s only then that Shizuo realises he’s basically laid face-first in the informant’s lap. “How forward.”

 

The blond flushes and jerks up, swinging over onto his backside as Izaya’s awful laughter echoes in his ears. “Fuck you!”

 

Shinra claps his hands and leans over the back of the sofa, shaking his head. “Will you two chill out? I’m in no mood for your silly spats today. Thank you Celty, darling.”

 

“Can you just tell us whatever you needed to tell us?” Shizuo growls, pulling at the shadows around his wrists. “I wanna get outta here.”

 

“Me too,” Izaya agrees. “Being around this brute for too long lowers one’s IQ.”

 

The doctor sighs and hangs his head over the back of the sofa. He’s still for a moment, then he straightens up with a dramatic wail. “Okay look -  _ I’m  _ not to blame here. So you’re not gonna hit me, right?”

 

The two foes look at one another and back at their friend. They both speak at the same time. “Depends.”

 

“Dad was vague, he’s barely tested this serum! Fool,” Shinra grumbles. “I’m going to have to observe you both for a while, I mean how am I-”

 

“Shinra! Focus!” Izaya snaps, raising his bound hands in front of him. 

 

“Yes, yes! Well, I have a theory,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “Izaya’s arm is secreting a similar fluid to what I found on Shizuo’s torso after his first transformation. I’ve not seen it before, nor is it a chemical makeup I recognise. I believe, Izaya, as Shizuo bit you and drank your blood, he’s passed the virus on to you.”

 

The informant’s face paled sometime during Shinra’s speech. “What?”

 

“I mean, I can’t be totally sure, so that’s why I’d like you to both stay here for a little while,” Shinra says, casually. “I mean, it’ll be a pain because me and Celty won’t exactly have any ‘alone’ time if you get what I m-”

 

A shadow wraps around his mouth and pulls him back over the sofa, out of sight. Shizuo smiles, an expression that’s soon dropped when he looks back at Izaya. The smaller man looks like he wants to be sick, he’s staring at the ground absently as if his mind has gone completely blank. He doesn’t feel sorry for Izaya,  _ nothing  _ would make him feel that, no matter how bad. But the deathly expression on his face makes Shizuo ponder whether something like this would ruin him. All that talk of watching, loving,  _ being  _ human - maybe the prospect of becoming a monster is too much to bear. Serves him right, Shizuo thinks, he’s been called a monster for years. 

 

“There’s no way in hell I’m stayin’ here,” Shizuo grumbles. “Shinra, I’ll just come back whenever the next moon is, or whatever.”

 

Izaya’s gaze snaps up to look at him. “I agree, I’m not staying in this hothouse.”

 

Shinra pops up from the back of the sofa and gives them a wide grin. “You’ve agreed with each other twice now! See, I told you that one day you’d be friends!”

 

The enemies glare at their mutual friend until he dips sheepishly back behind the sofa. 

  
  


_ -0- _

  
  


There’s something  _ rotten  _ about the information broker of Ikebukuro these days. It’s a rumour that’s barely spoken of but one that everyone knows about. Most don’t speak of it for fear that the informant’s ears will hear them but there are those who, in hushed voices, under the dim of the night, asked one another whether Izaya Orihara was not of this world. The omniscient way he watches over the city made some, like Mikado Ryuugamine, think of him as godlike. Not a merciful God, not a good God, more like mischievous Loki or hedonistic Dionysus. Others, such as Masaomi Kida, often commented that he was a devil rather than a God. The young gang leader’s opinion was soured by years of Orihara’s presence in his life, it wasn't an opinion shared by everyone. Much to Kida’s chagrin, the love of his life near enough worshipped the ground the informant walked on. There were others who thought he could be a trickster spirit or a satyr or an oni.

 

He’s always had some supernatural air about him but over the last fortnight, things have changed. Though he goes about his usual business playing puppet master to the masses, he’s more visible, he spends more time in the city  than before. Mikado notices how much more aggressive he has become. The informant never shied away from a fight but he always preferred knives to fists, speed to brute force. But there have been multiple occasions where Dollars members have reported seeing Izaya Orihara, knuckles bloody and torn, teeth bared in excitement. Masaomi doesn’t give a shit what’s going on with him, if only he’d die quicker, but Saki notices that he’s been wearing a bandage on one arm, beneath the fur-lined sleeve of his trademark jacket. She excitedly explains that the sleeve became pushed up in one of the fights once and she saw black ooze seeping out from beneath the material.

 

All these ideas were whispered rumours but there was one who was very vocal about what he thought of Izaya Orihara, so vocal that one could hear his words echoing around the alleyways of the city. He never gave a shit about whether the informant was listening, for compared to others he had much less to fear. When one’s body is as abnormal as Shizuo Heiwajima’s, the world and all its Izaya Orihara's become a lot less scary. Their street fights are legendary, almost tourist attractions at this point. Shizuo hates the way he can’t control himself, hates each video that appears online of ‘freakishly strong guy throws a bus!’ or ‘hot guys goes mental!’. But it’s always the same, they meet, they fight, Izaya slips away again. He’s seemingly unbeatable and to a man who’s never had any trouble destroying his enemies, Shizuo finds him infuriating. Invincible. Like catching wind. 

 

Despite all this, Izaya Orihara was undoubtedly human. If one had to pick out some of the worst qualities in human existence and blend them into one singular being, Izaya would definitely be the end product. Spiteful, narcissistic, manic, calculative, uncaring, rude, but above all - curious. It is this quality, this  _ humanity  _ that seems to be changing. 

 

Namie Yagiri has a better insight into his behaviour, much to her displeasure. If she thought Izaya was intolerable to be around before, now he’s downright monstrous. One evening, when the moon is waxing, three days until full, they’re both sat in his office, in silence. Namie looks at her watch as she crosses the room - almost time to get home. She dumps a stack of papers in front of him and folds her arms, eyeing him condescendingly. He’s tapping his fingers, impatient about something she can’t fathom. For the last two weeks he’s been getting sharper, angrier.

 

Undoubtedly his sudden sickness is due to the ever-worsening wound on his arm. Namie’s changed the bandages a few times but no matter how much she tries to disinfect it, it only grows more disgusting. The veins of his arm bulge so hard against this skin that she fears they’re going to burst. His entire arm is blackened by the infected  blood pounding through his body and it’s starting to spread, over his clavicle and up his neck. The most vile part of the wound is the puncture marks from Shizuo’s teeth, which hasn’t stopped oozing a tar-like sludge for days. The strangest thing is that Izaya seems to be ignoring it. Namie’s taken a number of calls from his friend, Shinra Kishitani, asking for an update on his situation as Izaya won’t talk to him. When she asked why this was the case, the informant replied that there’s nothing wrong with him, he doesn’t need a doctor. Shinra filled her in on the latest goings-on, on Shizuo’s predicament and what might be happening to Izaya. Namie finds it all rather bothersome, but she stays vigilant about the informant’s state regardless. Letting her guard down around a troubled Izaya could be dangerous. 

 

His eyes are vacant, staring down the hallway at the front door as if he’s expecting someone. The man is on edge, she can see that in the hard line of his shoulders, the way his cheek is twitching as it always does when he’s irritated. Namie frowns - why isn’t he trying to help himself? 

 

“Are you going to sit around and mope all day?” she snaps. “If you don’t help yourself, you’ll-”

 

Izaya reacts in a way she doesn’t expect. Usually he’s snide, sarcastic, but he never loses that serene look of amusement that so many people despise. That’s why it startles her when he slams his hands on the table and leans toward her. 

 

“Shut up - I’m trying to think!” Izaya screams, right in her face. She feels saliva spray over her face and tries to recoil but he grips her wrist and drags her closer so that her torso is sent crashing onto the desk. He glares at her, the gaze absent of all former joviality. There’s a blackened vein popping in his forehead, his teeth are bared in her face - he looks like he wants to eat her. Namie shudders slightly, keeping the motion and the fear that drags her mouth down into a frown hidden as best she can. Izaya isn't the same as before, he’s more erratic, nastier if possible.  _ Violent _ . When he feels out of control, he’s worse, unpredictable and energetic to the point that she has even considered that he’s high on something. For the first time she finds him terrifying. 

 

No, she thinks, no. I will  _ not _ let a snivelling shitbag like this make me afraid. She pushes him away roughly and slaps his face for good measure. Izaya snarls as he grips his sore face and turns to look at Namie with blazing eyes. There's a feral look in them but it doesn't stop her from baring her own teeth in response. 

 

“Listen to me Izaya,” she spit, clutching his collar tightly in between her fingers. She drags him forward so that his body is over the desk, a reversed mirror of their prior positions. He clasps a hand around hers but his grip is pathetically weak and even his scratches barely make a mark. “You talk to me like that again and I'll bite you worse than Shizuo did. Now, sit the fuck down, I’m calling Kishitani.” 

 

Namie shoves him back into his seat with enough force to make him gasp. Izaya clenches the arms of the chair angrily and holds her gaze for another moment before stubbornly turning his bloodshot eyes down to the floor. She turns away to fetch her phone. It seems better to dump the sickly creature onto his friend and the Dullahan rather than continue here. 

 

“You're a fucking bitch.”

 

When she turns back around, Izaya’s office chair is spinning around, empty. Concerned, she walks toward his desk and whirls around when the front door slams. His coat has vanished from the stand in the hallway, his knives are gone from the bowl on the table. There’s a smear of black sludge across the door handle, dripping onto the floor. 

  
  
  



	3. Infected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, woo! 
> 
> Will be updated Viewpoint soon and Poisoned Waters (I'm finding the ending rather tricky!).
> 
> I've also started a one-shot about Raijin days in which Shizuo doesn't throw that first punch and Izaya doesn't get out his knife.

It’s three days before the full moon and Izaya is running along the evening skyline of Ikebukuro. He needs to get the energy he’s been penting up out, he’s been feeling frantic for the past two weeks. His body is too hot and his infected arm feels like it’s on fire. The more rational part in his mind tells him that he’s being a fool and that he should see Shinra but there’s a far more persuasive voice which tells him that nothing is wrong. There’s no way someone like Izaya can be a m _onster._ Izaya is human, he’s human, he’s -   _dammit._ He sprints down a fire escape and drops down into the alley below, panting due to the over-exertion. The burning seems to be spreading quicker than it did initially, it’s working its way over his pectoral muscle, up his neck, over his shoulder. He feels dizzy so blinks a couple of times to try and focus but nothing helps, so he leans his side against the damp wall of the alley for support. His phone has been buzzing on and off in his pocket for the last half hour - he’s knows it’s Shinra, undoubtedly Namie has already called him.

 

As he drags in ragged breaths, he thinks of how he attacked Namie earlier. It was an irrational thing to do, he’s ashamed of the way he acted and hopes she’ll still be there when he gets home. Izaya hunches over, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to pull himself together. The pain radiating over his body is getting to be too much, when he opens his eyes his vision is swimming. He lets out a pained whine and delves into his pocket with his good hand to try and find his phone. As he searches he continues to move forward, dragging his infected shoulder along the wall. The movement causes a sharp pain to run across his chest and causes him to drop his mobile, which smashes noisily on the concrete below. Izaya grunts and leans his head against the wall, gritting his teeth as the pain starts to ebb away.

 

This is getting too hard. He thinks back on the way Shizuo reacted to the initial stages of transformation, his bloody, ripped apart face pictured clearly in his mind. Then, something Celty typed out on her PDA. _If he was strong enough to survive a mutation._ Shizuo survived but just barely. Izaya screws his eyes shut in pain. The beast’s skin didn’t purple and fester, he didn’t ooze pus and sludge like his body is. It’s no secret that Shizuo’s body is abnormal, it’s far stronger, it heals so much faster. The information broker curls his diseased arm inward and doubles over as another wave of pain rushes through him. He may have heightened reflexes but Izaya’s body is still ordinary, still human. Perhaps too human to survive something like this.

 

Shizuo smells him before he sees him, the alluring scent driving him down a lonely alleyway, where he finds Izaya leaning heavily against the wall. The smell is a little less effective than before. After last time, he started taking the medication Shinra gave him a week in advance - just in case. For a moment the informant is still, then he staggers forward and collapses to his knees. Shizuo smirks to himself and flicks the still-smoking butt of his cigarette into the gutter as he strides down the alleyway. Izaya seems to be unable to hold himself upright, he lurches forward onto his hands, then his elbows buckle and he crashes down onto his forearms.

 

“Well, look what I’ve found,” Shizuo calls. Izaya turns slowly onto his back as the other man approaches. His face is paler than usual, the shadows left by the dim streetlight make his cheeks appear hollow. He looks _sick._ Shizuo frowns and prods the informant’s foot with the toe of his shoe. “Oi, get up. It’s no fun to kick your ass when you’re already down.”

 

Izaya laughs but the sound devolves into a cough. He raises his arm to cover his mouth and starts retching into the crook of his elbow. After a while the coughing fit ends and he slumps back onto the flat of his forearms. Shizuo frowns when he sees a viscous black liquid oozing out of the side of his mouth. “Trust _you_ to turn up at an inopportune moment.”

 

The blond scowls and removes another cigarette from the box in his shirt pocket. He lights it quickly, never taking his gaze away from the man on the floor. “What happened to you?”

 

“I’m fine,” he replies, weakly. The nasty glimmer in his eyes is still there but there’s definitely something off with Izaya this evening. He isn't fighting back, he looks exhausted, parched, hungry. When Shizuo takes another step forward he gets a better look at the man’s face, at the dark, swollen veins pulsing up the side of his neck and across his cheek. Shizuo purses his lips - this can't be good. “I'm just a little dizzy. Could we do this another time?”

 

Shizuo grinds his teeth together at the petulant tone. Even if it is Izaya, he doesn't want to leave a potentially dangerous creature out in the streets, he could hurt someone. “You need to go to Shinra and Celty’s. Something’s wrong with you and it’s only three days ‘til we need to go back anyway, so-”

 

“I don't need to. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

 

“So that bite healed up, did it? Infection cleared? Let me see your arm.”

 

Izaya expression darkens. “Fuck you. I'm _not_ a monster, I'm nothing like y-”

 

“Watch your fucking mouth, flea,” he growls. Izaya stands up shakily and traipses forward until he is less than a foot away, grinning wildly at him. There is something animalistic in his gaze that Shizuo’s never seen before and it startles him enough to make him take a few steps back. “What-”

 

“I’m not a monster. I’m human,” Izaya comments, advancing forward. “But this feels- I just feel so-.”

 

Shizuo frowns and clenches one hand into a fist. The informant is wobbly on his feet, stumbling as if he’s drunk and he still looks unwell but there's misplaced determination in his eye.

 

“Feel like what?” he asks. Izaya steps closer so he holds up a hand and shoves it against the man’s chest, halting him from moving any further toward him. He’s knows what Izaya is going to say, it's the same as he feels. _Hungry._ “What the fuck is up with you?”

 

Izaya runs his tongue over his cracked bottom lip and let's out a low chuckle. “You know, don't you? ”

 

“Come on, asshole,” Shizuo snaps, grabbing hold of the cigarette in his mouth so that he can flick it away. “Can you speak fucking sense before I knock some into you?”

 

Izaya places his hands around Shizuo’s wrist and hums thoughtfully. His fingers are so cold, the blond thinks, it's like being held by a corpse. “You know, you dumb beast.”

 

The blond barely has time to blink before Izaya lurches forward and latches his mouth around his forearm. There’s a sudden shock of pain and at first he thinks that the informant has stabbed him with one of his favoured flick knives but when the momentary surprise wears off he realises that Izaya is _biting_ him. Shock moves into anger and he shoves the informant backward into the wall using his forearm. When the man’s head collides with concrete his mouth falls open to release a whine of pain, giving Shizuo time to draw his injured arm back. He quickly replaces his hold on the informant by sliding a hand around his thin throat. Izaya splutters under the weight of his grip, hands flying up to scratch at Shizuo’s fingers.

 

While he struggles, the blond looks down at his forearm and winces at the deep holes puncturing the skin. It's a bloody mess but he’s been wounded more severely than this before. When he moves his gaze back up to Izaya, the man is fixated on the crimson dripping down his arm.

 

“What the fuck?” he hisses, fingers tightening around Izaya’s throat. The informant bares his teeth and saliva-diluted blood slides down his chin. “Izaya-”

 

“You know exactly what, you stupid protozoan!” he snarls, voice sounding more like a violent growl than his usual smooth tone. “I’m _starving._ Why do you smell so good? Do I smell good to you? I hate this, I hate it!”

 

“Izaya-”

 

“I hate what you’ve done to me!” he shrieks, eyes blazing with hatred.

 

The informant lurches forward with more strength than Shizuo’s ever known him to possess and they both go toppling to the ground. Izaya claws violently as his chest until the blond manages to grab ahold of his throat again and throw him off to the side. They both spring up onto their feet, facing one another on either side of the alleyway, glaring daggers at the other. Shizuo growls under his breath and darts forward, slamming Izaya back into the wall again with a punch to the chest. As the smaller man crumples, he grabs his wrists and pins them against the wall, making sure that they’re wide enough to make Izaya’s struggles futile.

 

“Let me go _now_!” Izaya yells, kicking his feet into Shizuo’s thighs.

 

The blond grunts and presses his body flat against Izaya’s to keep him down. “No. You’re going to have to accept whatever is happening to you - us.  Look - I’m not sorry for this but-”

 

Izaya opens his mouth to speak but is cut off when Shizuo’s forehead smacks hard into his and the back of his head cracks against the alley wall. The informant goes slack in the blond’s grip, his wild eyes flutter shut and he’s finally silent.

 

-0-

  


Shizuo takes the informant back to Shinra and Celty’s home, hauling him then entire way there over his shoulder. It’s a tormenting journey, the smell of Izaya drives him half mad by the time he arrives at the apartment door. When Shinra answers, he shoves the smaller man onto the floor and strides over his unconscious body into the kitchen, nose and mouth covered by the crook of his elbow.

 

“Celty!” he shouts, the sound muffled by his arm. “Celty, where are you?”

 

Shinra hurries after him and lays a hand on his shoulder. “Stop shouting or I will kick you out.”

 

The blond turns and drops his elbow, a nasty snarl spilling out of his mouth. Shinra holds his hands up and takes a few steps back as Shizuo advances on him and eventually catches the front of his shirt between his fist. He bares his teeth in Shinra’s face and leans in close enough that he can feel the warmth of the doctor’s breath on his face. Before he can speak a hand clamps down on his shoulder and he glances back to see his own distorted reflection in the shining visor of Celty’s helmet. The animalistic look on the face of the man in the visor is jarring enough to bring him back to reality and he quickly lets go of Shinra’s shirt.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, taking a few steps away from both of them. “I’ve been feeling angrier the closer I get to- y’know.”

 

 _Don't hurt Shinra._ Celty orders, shoving her PDA in his face.

 

The doctor hums sternly and jerks a thumb back toward Izaya’s discarded body. “Is he dead?”

 

“No!” Shizuo exclaims, holding up his hands. “I found him in the streets. He looked sick - he still looks sick. His arm’s dripping with all this black shit, then he starts spouting nonsense and then the little fucker bites me on the arm so I knocked him out - look!”

 

Shinra takes a step forward and takes the proffered arm gently in his hands. His eyes widen in surprise when Shizuo pushes up his sleeve and he catches sight of the deep, already blackening wound that’s imprinted into his skin. “What on Earth?”

 

“You think this is grim, go take a look at Izaya.”

 

The doctor nods and turns on his heel so that he can move across the room to where Izaya is sprawled unconscious. Shizuo and Celty follow him slowly, the Dullahan now holding the man’s wounded arm in one of her hands as she observes it. Shinra crouches, pulls at his friend’s shoulder with one hand and tugs off the fur-lined jacket he always wears. It’s quickly discarded, next goes the thin black shirt, then Shinra falls down onto his knees and shakes his head as he takes in the mess that is Izaya’s torso. His arm, half his torso, half his neck, a portion of his cheek - all are blackened or greying, some areas purple with bruising, others red where his veins are bulging beneath the skin. There’s a dark, slimy substance oozing from the most severe part of the wound, the indents from Shizuo’s teeth, which is already spilling onto the wooden floor below.  

 

“Jeez Izaya,” he sighs, softly. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

 

Celty pulls Shinra back a little and raises her PDA. _Don’t touch that stuff, it could infect you too._

 

“Hmm, if I’m correct this disease passes through blood, so I should be fine,” he muses, scratching his head. “But to be safe - my love, could you please pick him up and carry him into the lab? Just shove him on the floor by the grate, then he can drain out like a popped zit.”

 

Shizuo watches as Celty’s shadows wind around the informant’s lifeless body and gently peels him off the floor. She maneuvers him through the living room toward the lab, shadows catching the droplets of sludge that drip from his arm. Shinra stops Shizuo before he can follow.

 

“We’re going to need to keep you both here for the next week,” Shinra sighs, tiredly. “It might be best if you and Celty go to your place and get some spare clothes and the like. We’ve got a spare bedroom-”

 

“Is that really the only option?” Shizuo grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You know me and Izaya don’t exactly get on.”

 

Shinra rolls his eyes. “I know. Believe me, if there was any other way I would be taking it - you and Izaya will cramp up mine and Celty’s love nest!”

 

The blond sighs and looks down at his bloody shirt. “Well, if you can sort out whatever is happening to us, then I guess I can bear with it.”

 

“Great! No fighting or I’ll be sending you the bill.”

 

Shizuo can tell his usual cheeriness is somewhat dampered by the situation they’re in. He gives the doctor a small smile and his harsh gaze softens. “Thanks Shinra, for helping us. I appreciate it, y’know.”

 

He purses his lips and a sour expression takes over his features. A second passes as he stands in thoughtful silence, then he pushes his glasses up his nose and turns to face Shizuo fully. For once he speaks with utter seriousness. “My Father did this to you. He’s already found another project he’s more interested in than this one, so he’s left me to pick up the pieces.”

 

“You know this isn’t your fault.”

 

“I know,” he responds. A weary smile brightens his glum face. “But you two and Kyouhei are the only friends I have, I’d rather not lose you.”

 

A high-pitched shriek breaks the comfortable silence, signalling Izaya’s awakening. It’s a loud, inhuman screech that soon breaks into wheezing coughs. Crashing and wailing begins, too wretched and unusual to be a human reaction. The smell of Izaya intensifies and Shizuo swallows thickly, trying to calm himself down.

 

“Go outside, have a cigarette,” Shinra says, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Go get your clothes, supplies, whatever. Then I want you to come straight back here. We’ll have him under control by then.”

 

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies, absently. Izaya’s screams sound dreadful, whatever is happening to him must be causing him terrible pain. He despises the man but part of him can't help but feel guilty. “Did my bite cause that?”

 

Shinra doesn't reply, he just gives Shizuo a final pat on the shoulder before rushing into the lab, straightening his lab coat on the way. The blond watches his friend disappear into the other room then heads toward the front door, searching in his top pocket for his pack of smokes. The evening is cool when he steps outside, gently shutting the door behind him. It’s far from fresh but the smoggy air and blinking lights of the city calm him down nonetheless. He smiles at the city beyond the balcony, warmed by the site of the place he has always loved to call home.

 

When he raises a cigarette to his lips a sudden rotting stench invades his nose. He looks down, eyes widen when he sees tar-like slime covering the box in his hand, his shirt and the filter in his mouth. Quickly Shizuo snatches the cigarette from between his lips and throws it onto the floor, along with the box. He can taste the foul substance on the tip of his tongue. His heart starts pounding rapidly and a sheen of sweat forms over his skin as he doubles over, one hand on the balcony wall for support. He can't focus, his heartbeat is throbbing so loudly against his temples that he cannot think of anything but the smell and the taste of Izaya’s rot.


	4. Cauterize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally more on this one! Next chapter will be out in a couple of days.

Izaya jerks awake, letting out a dry, throaty gasp as he fists the sheet that have been carelessly thrown over him. His sweat-slick body protests at the sudden movement and he grits his teeth as pain shoots through his limbs. There’s a dull ache, one that covers his entire body - he feels as if he’s been dropped from a great height onto concrete. With a shudder, he drags in a deep breath and tries to sit upright. He props himself up on his palms and blinks hard, trying to clear the stars blinding his vision. Dizziness causes his stomach to twist and as he stands up from the operating table he has been laying on, bile rises up his throat and he retches violently. He bends at the waist and wraps one of his arms around his stomach while the other holds the edge of the table for support. The informant continues dry-heaving until his knees buckle underneath him and he crashes onto all-fours. At first, nothing comes up but the gagging doesn’t stop and eventually he feels something rushing up his esophagus. In one harsh retch dark, putrid matter bursts out of his mouth and splatters onto the wooden floor beneath him. It smells the same as the disgusting pus that was oozing out of his arm. Izaya groans, gargling slightly on the thick liquid that is clinging to his tonsils. He remains on his hands and knees until the retching stops and tries to calm himself by taking in a number of deep breaths. It’s only when he feels a little less shaky that he notices the presence of someone standing over him.  

“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your filth off my floor.”

Izaya smirks, still staring at the floor. He intentionally spits out a wad of mire and then turns his head to the side. Shinra is stood close by his side, hands in the pockets of his lab coat. The informant grunts and moves so that he can lean against the bottom of the operating table and let his legs sprawl out in front of him. His body is still aching terribly but he keeps his muscles tense, just in case Shinra makes a sudden move or Shizuo appears. 

“Where am I?” he croakes, voice rasping through his dry throat as a bare whisper. “What happened?”

“We’re at my house, in the lab,” Shinra raises a brow. “You don’t remember?”

Izaya starts to shake his head but pauses when a surge of memories rush back to him. The vile sludge oozing from his body, that feeling of hunger, the taste of blood, fuck, Shizuo’s blood and then the protozoan’s head hurtling toward his face. The idiot must have knocked him out. “It’s okay. Relax.” - his eyes widen and he glances up at Shinra. A dark scowl stretches across his face.

 

“What is happening to me?” he hisses, angrily. “Where is that stupid beast?”

The doctor shrugs his shoulders. “In the apartment somewhere.”

“Get him in here so I can kill him. Something happened when he bit me,” Izaya replies, watching the other man closely as he waltzes across the room to sit in the desk chair opposite him. “ _ Shinra _ , are you listening to me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Shinra asks, folding his arms across his chest. He purses his lips and stares directly at the man slumped on the floor. “You’re not well Izaya.”

Izaya frowns, mind temporarily blank from the sudden rush of pain through his body. When it passes, he lets out a low groan and draws in a few deep breaths. Slowly, he looks down at his arm and his breath hitches as he observes the blackened skin and seeping bite mark. A wave of nausea washes over him. What if he’s been infected with whatever Shizuo has? Is he going to tear off his skin and lose control of his mind? Is he going to turn into some sort of monster? Panic grips him and his heart starts hammering aggressively in his chest. The transformation almost killed Shizuo and his body was superhuman. If Izaya was affected in the same way Shizuo had been - was he going to die?

“No, no, no-”

“Calm down, Izaya,” Shinra orders, calmly. The brunet slips off the oversized shirt he’s been dressed in and starts frantically touching the infected parts of his skin, growing more disturbed every second.

“What the fuck has happened to me?” he snarls, pushing himself onto his knees. Swallowing thickly, he presses his fingers against his temples and starts to rubs them forcefully.

 

Shinra’s brows furrow in sympathy. “Quite honestly Izaya, I’m still trying to work that out myself.”

 

The informant growls angrily and slams both his fists back into the legs of the operating table. He raises himself up and moves across the room so that he can lunge at Shinra. The doctor slides his desk chair across the floor before the other man can reach him, causing Izaya to crash head-first into the wall. He scrambles round, hissing as pain wracks his torso, and reaches out a hand. Shinra catches his wrist and twists it deftly before he can make another move. On another day Izaya would have easily overpowered the other man but due to the weak condition of his body his reactions are sluggish. He keeps twisting until Izaya is forced onto his knees at his feet.

“You did this! You and your fucking psychotic Father!” the informant shouts, swinging his free hand up. Shinra is too slow to miss that movement and receives a nasty punch to the cheek, which makes him jerk backward and release Izaya’s wrist. Immediately, the brunet darts up and slams his hands into Shinra’s chest, causing the desk chair to crash against the wall. With one hand he pins the doctor to the wall by his throat while the other hovers over his face. He splits two fingers and places them a few inches above Shinra’s eyes, making the threat quite clear. “Move and I’ll blind you, Shinra.”

The doctor laughs lightly but Izaya can see that his jaw is clenched tightly. “Always so rough with me.”

“Start talking,” the informant snaps, thoroughly pissed off. He feels strange, there’s an uncontrollable anger bubbling below the surface and it means he is in no mood to humour his friend. “Tell me what the fuck has happened to me.”

“I think you’re smart enough to work that o-” Shinra begins. He pauses when the fingers above his eyes move slightly closer. When he glances up at Izaya’s face he saw nothing but anger behind his eyes. “Okay, okay. Shizuo found you in the streets, he said you were spouting nonsense and that you were trying to pick a fight. You tried to bite him-“

“He bit me fir-”

The doctor clicks his tongue to silence Izaya, who returns the signal with a hateful glare. “He brought you back here because of that bite of yours. It’s infected by the look of it and I’ve no idea what with at the moment. That black pus isn’t something I’ve seen before but the way your skin is - here and here - it looks like it’s necrotising.”

 

Izaya is silent for a moment, staring vacantly at Shinra as if he hasn’t heard the other speak. He drops his hand from in front of his eyes and pushes himself away from the wall so he can move back to sit on the edge of the operating table. 

 

“Dying, you mean,” he states, blankly. Shinra swallows uneasily and laces his fingers together in his lap. It’s the obvious sign of discomfort that makes Izaya snap. His face twists and his body shakes with rage and for a second Shinra thinks he going to lunge at him again, but then the informant lets out a strangled laugh and slaps his hand against his thigh. 

 

“Izaya?” Shinra asks, warily. The laughter would be maniacal were it not for the wheezy, strained quality to the noise. 

 

The informant’s bellowing dies into breathy giggles and he hangs his head low so that the other man cannot see his face. Shinra’s eyes go soft with sadness. He’s well aware of his friend’s intense fear of death, it’s obvious from the way he speaks about life and the way he keeps his humanity shielded. Quiet sobbing fills the space between them. The doctor removes his glasses and polishes them with the corner of his jumper. 

 

“I’m not going to give you any pity because I know that isn’t what you want,” Shinra says, calmly. Izaya raises his head and observes him silently through bloodshot, watery eyes. It’s a miserable sight but Shinra continues regardless. “I am going to help you as best I can. And before you start whining - you can either accept my help and we can try to figure out what on Earth is happening here or you can refuse. And then you can go home, try to deal with this alone and-”

 

“Stop,” Izaya interrupts, not wanting to hear the last word he knows Shinra is going to say. He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces as he feels something sticky clinging to his fingers. “Fine. Help me.”

 

That’s as good as Shinra is going to get and it’s all he needs to jump to his feet and walk toward the main desk in his lab. “Wonderful. Now, I’m going to start running some tests. Celty and Shizuo are going through some files Shingen sent over. It would have been helpful if he’d actually come over himself but obviously the coward decided to stay away.”

 

Izaya swings his legs over the table so that he can face the doctor. There’s an uncharacteristically dark scowl on Shinra’s face, clearly directed toward his absent Father. He notices Izaya watching, quickly replaces the frown with a cheerful grin and busies himself with gathering medical supplies from the drawers of the desk. The informant wipes the tears from his cheeks and sniffs. He doesn’t cry often and he can’t remember the last time he cried in _ front  _ of another person. It’s embarrassing but he has just been confronted with the realisation that he could die very soon. Surely that was enough to weaken even the hardest of resolves. Besides, it’s only Shinra who heard him. It’s  _ only Shinra  _ and that’s a good thing. He can’t imagine crying in front of anyone else. 

 

“Celty’s also there to keep an eye on Shizuo. Hopefully the serum we’ve made for him works by the time the full moon comes. But if not, she’ll have to keep him down. Ah, my fierce, strong warrior is such a beautiful soul,” Shinra sighs, dreamily thinking of his beloved. He turns back to Izaya and holds up a syringe. “I’m going to need to take some blood.”

 

The informant nods and presents his forearm as Shinra moves toward him. The doctor places the syringe down onto a metal plate next to the table and pulls on a pair of gloves. “No sudden movements, please. I don’t want to cut myself and get infected.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up.”

 

He turns his head away as a tourniquet is tied tightly around his arm. Knives, guns, playing with monsters, none of them have ever bothered him but there was something about watching blood being drawn that turns his stomach. Shinra hums lightly as he slides the needle into a vein at the crook of Izaya’s elbow. “So, now that you’re finally playing ball can you please tell me of any other symptoms you’re experiencing?”

 

For a moment he considers telling Shinra to fuck off, then he feels an agonising pressure from the area where the needle penetrates his skin. “F-fuck, that  _ hurts _ .”

 

“I’ll be as quick as possible. Please, carry on.”

 

Izaya grits his teeth together and clenches his free hand tightly around the edge of the table. The pain is excruciating, far beyond how a simple blood extraction should feel. His eyes screw shut as he fights to keep still. “W-when I was fighting with Shizu-  _ agh _ . I could smell him everywhere and it made me want to bite him. Which is- is disgusting.”

 

“Why did you want to bite him?” Shinra asks, finally withdrawing the now-full syringe. He places it down on the metal plate and places a piece of cloth over Izaya’s arm. “Wait there, I’m going to wash and re-apply the bandages on the bite.”

 

“I-” he pauses, looking down at the putrid that’s starting to drip down his wrist. With a sigh, he shuts his eyes and thinks back on the overwhelming feeling of hunger and temptation that he felt when he was pinned against that alley wall by Shizuo. “I felt hungry.  _ Starving _ . And for some reason Shizu-chan smelt delicious. Ugh, even the thought of that makes me what to throw up.”

 

The doctor spins around in his desk chair and pushes him back over to the operating table. He taps on the informant’s arm and he extends it obediently. They sit in silence as Shinra gets to work cleaning the wound. It seems like a fruitless endeavour at first, the slime keeps on oozing from the bite mark after each swipe of sterile liquid. Eventually it seems to slow and Shinra lays a thick strip of gauze on his forearm. Quickly but masterfully, he wraps a bandage from Izaya’s wrist to his bicep, then pins it in place and leans back to admire his handiwork. It won’t help the blackened skin or the spread of the poison in his blood but it will have to do for now. At least he’ll stop leaking all over the apartment. 

 

“Thank you,” Izaya says, quietly. He offers Shinra a rueful smile. “I apologise for threatening to blind you.”

 

Shinra waves a hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “No bother. If I wanted buddy-buddy joviality I wouldn’t have made friends with you and Shizuo.”

 

A smirk spreads across Izaya’s face and a glimmer of his usual self shines through. “You have strange tastes.” 

 

“Strange but impeccable,” he replies, taking the metal tray over to his desk. “Now, I need some time to process this and compare it to the sample I took from Shizuo.”

 

“I presume you’re going to want me to stay here for the foreseeable future?” Izaya asks. Shinra nods, with a large grin on his face. He rolls his eyes but it’ll be useless to protest. “Fine. Do you have my phone? I will ask Namie to bring over some clothes and my laptop. I’ll try and find some information on- on whatever it is that’s happening.”

 

“You mean werewol-”

 

“I am not calling it that,” he interrupts, shaking his head. He’s not an animal or a monster, he’s a human. A sick human. That’s all. “Phone, please.”

 

Shinra turns around on his chair and starts fiddling with the items on his desk. “You don’t need to, I called her earlier then Shizuo went to your place and picked everything up.”

 

“You did  _ what?!  _ You let that monster into my apartment?”

 

“Please be quiet Izaya, I’m trying to work.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
